


Pint

by beeyouteaful



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeyouteaful/pseuds/beeyouteaful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was having the worst day ever, and all I wanted was a pint of ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pint

It was official; My day _would not_ and _could not_ get better from this point. I had been crying all day—I even took a sick day from work—and moped around my apartment. I wasn’t even _sad._ I was frustrated. I was so furious. I couldn’t believe how awful I felt. It wasn’t even that big of a deal to start out with.

I was at work yesterday and got a phone call from one of my friends—well, she isn’t my friend anymore—concerning a completely harmless Facebook status about a movie that I posted a few days ago. Apparently, if it conflicts with hers, my opinion can’t be justified and always deserves a snarky, belittling comment from her end. She tried explaining—in excruciatingly _stupid_ detail—that her opinion was correct because she had actually seen the movie I was boycotting and told me that my views on the whole situation were invalid. But, that’s not the reason I was mad.

I was angry because whenever she felt the need to give her two cents, or whatever, she spoke to me like I was some ignorant third grader who doesn’t know what the word “comedy” means. It’s mortifying. All my life, she’s been treating me like I’m stupid and that I don’t understand the world, just because my personal views are different from hers. She always acts like her opinion is the _only_ opinion, and when you disagree, she _has_ to tell you and give you a six-page rant on why you’re wrong. And of course, if you call her out on anything, it’s always “but everyone’s entitled to their own opinion!!!” _Yeah, thank you for telling me something that I already know and am exercising my right in. Really, it’s a pleasure._

But, anyway, I dropped her ass like a hot potato. I’d had enough of her bullshit over the years, and it stopped immediately after that phone call. There was no way I was going to let someone else tell me that I’m stupid and ignorant. Especially not someone as pretentious as she is.

So, naturally, today I stayed home from work, ignored all texts and phone calls, and watched Netflix until my eyes hurt. I felt empty. I didn’t care anymore. I’m my own person, and I shouldn’t be treated like someone else’s bitch-without-a-brain.

Eventually, Netflix got a little boring—I was in the middle of watching _30 Rock_ for the 3rd time through—and I turned it off. Not even Tina Fey could make me laugh; that’s when you know it’s bad.

I sat up from my tear-soaked couch, wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, and padded into my bedroom. I stripped out of my sweats, which oddly felt like shedding some sort of metaphorical skin, and went to shower.

I barely recognized myself in the bathroom mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy, my hair was frizzed-out and staticy, and on top of it all, my face was all red and blotchy. I looked like a walking nightmare, but at least showering would make me feel better.

The hot water massaged and loosened the knots in my back. _If only I had a boyfriend to give me an actual massage._ The shower had to suffice. The aroma from my shampoo soothed me in the steam filled room, and I wondered why I hadn't thought of showering earlier. I felt so much better now that I was clean.

However, when the freezing air hit me as I stepped out of the shower, my mood instantly dropped back to where it was before.

Once I was dressed—in the same sweats as earlier—I wrapped my hair up in a towel and found my way to the refrigerator. I was definitely due for another good cry over some ice cream and more Netflix.

I opened the freezer door and pulled out the tub of mint chocolate chip. It was lighter than I expected, but I guess I'd just eat a bit less than I thought. I grabbed a spoon, sat down on the couch, and turned my TV back on. I opened the ice cream lid and found—

Nothing. There was no more ice cream in the container.

"Who the fuck does that?! Why did I do this?!" I couldn't help but think she was right; _I am stupid_.

I wished I had a roommate I could blame it on. Then I'd be able to laugh about it. But when I realized that of course I was the one responsible, my eyes welled up with tears. Why did she always have to be right? It isn't fair. I mean, I know I'm not stupid, but in that moment, I felt like the dumbest human on the planet. Who puts an empty ice cream container back in the freezer?

I was done feeling sorry for myself and threw the tub in the garbage a little more forcefully than necessary. Determined to make myself feel better, I finished drying my hair and grabbed my car keys. I slipped on a pair of old flip flops and headed to the grocery store.

It was around 10 at night, and the whole store was pretty much deserted. I made a beeline to the freezer section and stopped in front of the wall of ice cream. My mouth watered as I scanned over the different flavors and brands. I knew I wanted ice cream. No popsicles, no Klondike bars. Just good, old-fashioned, frozen dairy in a tub.

 _Ben & Jerry's_? _Edy's_? What kind did I even want? Mint chocolate chip sounded great when I was at home, but now I was kind of feeling cookie dough. Or maybe even peanut butter chocolate swirl... I was too indecisive when it came to this kind of thing. _God, this is so stressful!_ I thought. _Wait a second. Am I... Am I crying over this?!_ I reached a hand up to my cheek and wiped away the ridiculous tears, but I couldn't get myself to stop.

As I stood there staring at the case of ice cream in all my miserable glory, a man turned into the aisle without me even noticing.

"Bad breakup?"

I jumped at the sudden company and twisted around to meet his face. I was speechless. He had a beautiful, strong jawline with sharp cheekbones, and gorgeous sapphire eyes. His hair was short, curly, and ginger, and he sported a bit of facial hair. And his height! He was like a skyscraper! He must have thought I looked like a troll.

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” I pulled on my sweatshirt sleeve and wiped away my tears. “And that sounds a little sexist, you know. Not every crying girl in the ice cream aisle of a grocery store is there because of a guy.”

“My mistake,” he apologized with a shy smile. “I was just trying to break the ice.” My eyes wandered down his chest and back up again.

His pun made me snort with laughter. “I guess I could let it slide.”

“My name’s Tom.” He extended his hand to me, and I took it, expecting a firm handshake. Instead, he brought my knuckles to his lips and placed a chaste kiss to them. My eyes went wide.

“Wow…” I fawned, blushing like an idiot. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

He chuckled, letting go of my hand and sliding his own into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Look, you stopped crying. My job here is done.” I raised my hand to my cheek and brushed my fingers against the dry skin.

“Looks like I have.” I had to keep him near me—he seemed too sweet to give up—so I had to make some sort of casual conversation. I scrambled to find something to talk about. “So, I doubt you’re here to cheer up crying girls in the freezer section. What are you shopping for?”

“I actually came here to get ice cream, myself.”

“Bad breakup?” I joked. He laughed out loud, and it had to be the cutest laughter I’d ever heard.

“No, not exactly,” he played back. “Just came in for a pint of ‘AmeriCone Dream’.”

“That’s surprising.”

“Why?”

“Well, with your accent and all, I didn’t expect you like an American themed ice cream.” Tom laughed again.

“Hey, I can respect Stephen Colbert and his taste in ice cream flavors.”

“Fair enough.” I smiled down at the floor. We stood for a few seconds in silence before I turned back to the fridge and picked out the container he wanted.

“Here." Tom took the ice cream and smiled.

"What kind are you getting?"

"I don't know. When you found me here, I was in the middle of choosing," I said.

"How about I pick for you?"

“Okay, sure.” Tom stepped up to the freezer door and pondered for a second before he opened it and pulled a flavor out.

“Funny, I was thinking about getting this one,” I mused as I turned the frozen treat in my hand.

“You come off as a chocolate and peanut butter type of girl.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” I laughed.

“Well, you’re wearing _Reese’s_ pajama bottoms.”

I looked down and blushed, thinking about how dumb I seemed in that moment.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to hide my shame in the dairy section,” I half-joked, starting to walk away.

“No! No, it’s okay,” Tom chuckled. “Actually, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to pay for your ice cream.” His fingers fluttered at the hollow of his throat as he shyly smiled at his feet.

“What?”

“I just feel really bad about whatever you’re going through. You don’t usually find crying girls while walking around a grocery store.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly let you do that. I’m very flattered.”

“I insist. Come on, just let me do this for you.” He smiled so brightly that I thought I could go blind.

“...Okay.” I followed him to the self checkout and stood as he scanned the two products and inserted some cash into the machine. He took his receipt, and we walked out of the store together. Tom asked which car was mine, and he walked me right up to it.

“Well, here we are,” I commented reluctantly.

“I never got your name.”

“Oh! Oh my god, I feel like an ass tonight. It’s (y/n).”

"Well, (y/n),” Tom reached for my hand and brought it back to his lips, “I guess this is goodnight.” He kissed my knuckles once again—a bit longer than before—and released me. My fingers twitched at my side at the lingering feeling of his lips.

“Goodnight, Tom.” He handed me my ice cream. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope your problem gets solved.” And with that, he began to walk away.

I turned back to my car and unlocked the door, smiling like an absolute dumbass.

Then it hit me; I really liked this guy's vibe and wanted to get to know him. I hurried around the back of the huge van in the parking space next to me to see him heading toward his car.

“Tom!” I called to him. He stopped and turned back around. I jogged over to him and pushed a stray hair behind my ear. “This is a _very_ long shot, and I promise you that I'm not a serial killer, but would you maybe like to come back to my place and watch a movie? I know it's late, and if you’re busy, that’s fine. I just could use the company.”

Tom grinned and nodded.

“I’d love to.”

My heart fluttered, and I gave him my address in case he got lost following my car.

“See you there, (y/n).”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any errors! I wanted to get this out quickly. <3


End file.
